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In Performance;POP

In a Conversational Baritone That Can Dive Even Deeper Bill Morrissey Bottom Line

Bill Morrissey has been on two tours recently: one to read from his novel, "Edson" (Alfred A. Knopf), and one to perform the songs that have brought him a dedicated folk-club following. He didn't read on Wednesday night, but his eye for detail and tersely sketched characters is a writerly gift.

He sings as if sharing confidences, in a conversational baritone that regularly dives even lower; his voice is so husky and cracked that the melodies are mostly conj'ctures. The music is also pared down: two or three chords, a little finger-picking, a hint of the blues.

Mr. Morrissey has a wry streak; in "Letter From Heaven," Gabriel is "taking lessons from Miles and Diz." The cheerful "Married for Money" observes, "The world looks so pretty from her Cadillac." But his true gift is for plain-spoken songs of fading love and bleak solitude, often with drink in hand. "Thought you'd be home/That was my mistake," he sang in "As Long as the Sun," from his new album, "You'll Never Get to Heaven" (Philo/Rounder).

Mr. Morrissey was playing his first show with a new band, and it hobb'ed him, especially in uptempo tunes. But the chiseled stoicism of his songs still came through.

Lynn Miles, a songwriter from Ottawa who was making her New York debut, brought an otherworldly purity to her own tales of love going wrong. In so'gs from her album, "Slightly Haunted" (Philo/Rounder), she showed a gift for clear melodies and a sweet, tremulous voice, filled with aching delicacy; she made being forlorn sound like a state of grace. Ian LeFeuvre, on acoustic and electric guitars, used echo effects and ingenious techniques (like whistling above his guitar pickups) to add even more eerie delicacy to the songs. JON PARELES